


Day 7: Free Day

by GemmaRose



Series: MegOp Week [7]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Cleaning, Comfort, Exhaustion, First Meetings, Hand Jobs, Kinda. multiverse makes these things weird, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Multiverse, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Trauma, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Working around Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22210621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Megatron might not know the mech who just collapsed in his arms, but the colourful little truck clearly knows him. He needs caring-for first though, before he'll be able to give any sort of answers.
Relationships: Megatron/Orion Pax, Megatron/Shockwave/Soundwave
Series: MegOp Week [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592986
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Day 7: Free Day

“Megatronus.” Predaking’s catch whispered, as much static as glyph, and Megatron reflexively caught the mech when he pitched forwards, all but collapsing into Megatron’s arms, field flush with _safety trust relief_ over a pervading sense of exhaustion. Megatron was peripherally aware of Shockwave approaching Predaking from the side, and his engine purred at the glimpse of his scientist’s middle exposed to the warm desert air, armour retracted to give the protoforms in his swelling gestation tank room to grow. His spark, though, drew his attention back to the half-conscious mech in his arms.

He had never met this mech, of that he was certain, but... perhaps they had known each other before. So little of his memory from before Unicron had remained intact, even just the vorn he’d spent leading his attempts at a locally sourced army around before Soundwave’s arrival had corroded most everything beyond retrieval. It would explain why the mech in his arms _felt_ familiar, felt _important_. Why his spark insisted that he was holding someone who should be as close to it as Soundwave, who had been so close for nearly as long as his most loyal, beloved subordinate. Between the strength of the spark-memory and the way the truck had collapsed against him so trustingly, he could only assume they had been lovers, before Megatron came through the portal.

“Would you like to clean yourself?” he asked, and the mech in his arms gave a jerky, shuddering nod. “You, bring a bowl of solvent to my tent.” Megatron pointed at a random mech who’d stopped setting up the camp to watch Predaking’s return, and got a hurried nod before they rushed off. “Can you walk?” he asked the mech in his arms, and after a moment the truck shook his head. “Then I shall carry you.” he crouched to get an arm around the back of the mech’s knees, and smirked when that made his engine rev. The rev only lasted a nano-klik before sputtering out though, the distinct sound of an engine choking for fuel, and Megatron glanced around for another mech he could single out. Seeing none, he opened up his comm line to Shockwave.

::Predaking’s find needs fuel badly. Bring two cubes to our tent.::

Shockwave pinged back a simple affirmative, and Megatron returned his focus to the mech in his arms as he shouldered past the heavy flap which covered the entrance to his tent. He set the slender truck down in the pile of pillows Soundwave had amassed over the millennia, and a moment later one of his mechs slid through the door flap with a properly sized bowl of solvent and a pair of mesh cleaning cloths. Megatron nodded once when they were set down at his side, and waited for the mech to vacate before touching the truck’s face, turning his helm gently until their optics met.

“Can you wash yourself?” he asked, and got a shake of the helm. “Would you like me to do it for you?”

A nod, this time, and Megatron didn’t hesitate to take up one of the cloths, wetting it only slightly before taking his guest’s forearm and rubbing at a dark scuff along its length. The dents and scrapes would take more than some pressure and solvent to remove, but something was better than nothing. “You arrived recently.” he said, looking up from the arm in his hands to meet dim blue optics. Was the mech even fully mentally present? Terminally low fuel did strange things to a mech, not to mention he must’ve been overclocked when Predaking caught him to have collapsed so completely when he saw Megatron.

“Twelve mega-cycles ago.” he said at length, and Megatron returned to his gentle, insistent scrubbing. “It was-” he shuddered, and Megatron released his arm to move down to the mech’s shins, which seemed the next dirtiest. “It was just _awful_ , Megatronus! I had to recharge in caves, and these- these-” he gestured vaguely with his hands, visibly searching for a word.

“Tessons?” Megatron suggested, and blue optics snapped back to him.

“There’s a name for them?” he squeaked.

“Several, though tesson encompasses all kinds.” Megatron nodded. “Here we have ones which manipulate Unicron’s energies to inflict modifications to a mech’s frame with just a few words, ones which lie in wait to trap unwary passers-by for use at their leisure, ones without legs which give off no heat signatures at all and can crush a mech with the tails that grow from their hips.” he paused, and looked up at the trembling mech in front of him. “None of which dare to attack our camp, of course.”

“Of course.”

Megatron went back to his scrubbing, and his engine growled as he worked high enough up the mech’s legs to see claw marks gouged into his thigh armour. Damn minotaurans, going after mechs too new to be wary of them. There were no paint transfers on the mech’s inner thighs though, and Megatron internally raised his estimation a few notches. To be grabbed in such a way and still escape unmolested was a commendable feat.

“It’s a very nice camp.” his guest said, shifting in place as Megatron began to work back down his other leg. “But, how did you get here before me to set it up?”

Megatron sighed, setting the mesh cloth aside and resting his hands on his guest’s knees. “My name is not Megatronus.” he said slowly, layering his glyphs with sincerity. “I am Megatron, and I have called Unicron home for many millennia.”

“But-”

“I am not the mech you knew.” Megatron continued, maintaining optic contact. “But I know that, before I was here, I knew you. My spark knows you, though I cannot remember your designation.”

“Orion.” he said quickly, taking Megatron’s hands in his own delicate ones. “I am Orion Pax of Iacon.”

“Orion Pax.” Megatron purred, extracting one of his hands from Orion’s and cupping the back of his helm. “We may come from different worlds, but I know in my spark that, before Unicron corrupted my memories of life on the other side of the portal, you were the mech most important in my life. As near to my spark as Soundwave, oldest and dearest of my friends.”

Orion slumped, leaning into Megatron’s hand on his helm as his chassis trembled, vents hitching and optics leaking thin streams of coolant. “We- we fought, before I was sent here. Before we met with the Council, we fought over what to say to them.”

“Then perhaps, where I am from, we never had that argument.” Megatron soothed, though he could recall nothing of what Orion spoke of. “Orion, I would be happy to have you in my camp.” he took one of Orion’s hands and pressed it to his chest, against the bared protometal closest to his spark, nestled between the halves of his breastplate. “I would be far happier to have you in my berth. You’re running quite a charge, after all.”

“Fuel _First_.” Megatron’s own voice purred at him from the entryway, and he turned to see Soundwave with three cubes of energon.

“I doubt he can handle three cubes, Soundwave.” Megatron said, sliding the bowl aside with one pede as he rose to meet his mate halfway. Soundwave held the third cube up, touching it to his lips, and Megatron nodded with a small smile. “I see.” he took a sip from the cube, then laced his fingers with Soundwave’s long, slender ones around it. “Thoughtful as ever.”

Soundwave’s visor tinted ever so faintly blue, and Megatron leaned in to nuzzle against the edge of it. His spike pressed insistently against the inside of his modesty panels, and he purred his engine low at the thought of what he could do to Soundwave later. Shockwave was near enough the end of his carriage that Megatron could start getting Soundwave ready again, and though it was far from a new one the thought of his oldest, most loyal friend full and heavy with sparklings and transfluid was uniquely arousing.

“I’ll just, um, go?” Orion hedged, and Soundwave turned his visor on the mech, projecting stern disapproval without even a hue shift. Impressive as ever.

“No need.” Megatron assured him, gesturing for Soundwave to follow him into their tent. “My mates have no objection to me taking other partners. It is always our berth that I return to.”

“ _Mine_.” Soundwave played back, accompanied by a brief clip of an interface session from his last carriage, Megatron’s face filling most of his visor’s screen with Shockwave’s arm reaching past from behind him for Megatron to kiss, optics laser-focused on Soundwave as he purred raw possessiveness. That had been an especially good night.

“Sit, fuel.” Megatron said as Soundwave pushed the cubes into Orion’s hands. “Give me your answer when you are done.”

Orion nodded, and Megatron retrieved the bowl to resume cleaning. Once he had some fuel in him, Orion’s frame would remember just how much charge it held, and he would accept Megatron’s proposal. A touch of patience, a few tender caresses as he cleaned, and he would have everything he wanted.

\---

Orion shifted in place as he sipped at the latter half of his second cube. Soundwave had taken his leave with the first empty one, and Orion was glad of it. As his peripheral systems came back online, his modesty panels had grown tight and uncomfortable, spike straining against them. Warm and fuelled and immutably _safe_ with Megatron ~~us~~ at his side, the charge which had kept him up now demanded release, itching on the underside of his plating and throbbing in the depths of his array. He set his cube down, shifting again, and Megatron gave him a knowing look.

“Have you decided?” he asked, his sub-glyphs neutral field unreadable but smile clearly stating that he knew the answer. For a nano-klik, Orion considered asking for privacy to self-service, but Megatron’s inevitable expression of shock wouldn’t be as satisfying as an actual ‘face.

“Yes.” Orion nodded, and let his modesty panels transform aside.

“Pretty little thing.” Megatron commented, running the edge of one claw up the underside of Orion’s spike, scraping it over the line of nodes there. “Have you had these since before Unicron?”

“Since I was forged.” Orion nodded. The ridge that ran the length of the top of his spike was a mod he’d gotten at his friends’ urging during his academy days, but Megatron didn’t need to know that just yet.

“This, too?” Megatron traced the tip of his index claw around the outer edge of the biolight which arced around the caudal edge of his valve, and Orion’s thighs trembled as he spread them wider.

“Y- yes.”

“Delicious.” Megatron purred, and Orion’s optics were drawn down by the snap of modesty panels sweeping open. The spike that rose from between Megatron’s legs was, well, _massive_. Blunt at the tip instead of tapered to a dull point like a normal spike, with three thick ridges ringing a girth equal to one of his thighs. The dark grey colouration hid absolutely none of its size, and Orion quickly shook his helm.

“That is _not_ going in me.”

“I didn’t plan for it to.” Megatron assured him, rising to sit next to Orion on the low berth and patting his lap. Large hands encircled his waist, guiding him to kneel straddling Megatron’s lap so that impossibly thick spike rubbed against the base of his own, and Orion’s thighs trembled again. “Will this be enough?” he asked, wrapping a hand around his and Orion’s spikes both, and Orion hesiated.

“I’m not sure.” he admitted, thinking briefly, wistfully, of the false spike and vibrator stowed under his berth back in Iacon. “I’m usually more of a valve mech.”

“I can work with that.” Megatron purred, his large, strong hands wrapping fully around Orion’s waist and guiding him down, angling his hips to grind against the hot surface below them. Only, the nano-klik his valve rim met Megatron’s spike, it was like his processor shut off. Orion came to with his back pressed to the wall, one hand held open in front of him and the other a tight fist held close to his chest, his whole frame trembling and vents screaming. Wha- why was he overclocked?

“Sorry, I-” he shook his head, wobbling slightly as he approached Megatron on the berth. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I do.” Megatron growled, but his field radiated only protectiveness, not a trace of anger. “Those damn tessons. It’s impossible to have an encounter as close as yours and come away unscathed.” Megatron’s hands stretched out to rest on his thighs, stroking the long scratches from the horned monster he’d kicked in the face.

“You think...” Orion trailed off, considering what Megatron had said, and what he had implied. His encounters with the mountain monsters- tessons, right, they were called tessons- had all involved him being pinned down and nearly violated, when he’d failed to escape before things got physical. Megatron hadn’t pinned him down, but he’d certainly been holding on tight, moving Orion around like he weighed nothing, which was pretty slaggin hot when it wasn’t triggering his combat systems. “Huh.”

“So, perhaps none of that tonight.” Megatron smiled, and Orion nodded.

“Maybe I’ll handle it better if I’m in control?” he suggested, and from the loud engine rev he guessed Megatron was very much not opposed to the idea.

“Get over here.” Megatron growled, and Orion straddled his lap again, this time trapping both their spikes between their frames. Megatron’s reached all the way up to his windshield, and Orion mentally resolved again that he was _not_ letting that thing anywhere near his valve. It would literally split him in two.

“Lie down.” he said, and Megatron did, giving him space to wrap both his hands around his spike and the base of Megatron’s. With his charge so high, it only took a few strokes to bring himself to overload, the uncomfortable knots of heat and tension which had been multiplying since his first night releasing all at once in a rush of incomparable relief. He slumped in place with a low moan, and when his optics came back online the first thing he saw was Megatronus- no, Megatron, but the indulgent smile was just the same as the one Megatronus reserved for him and Soundwave.

Then he realized that the warm stripe up his chassis wasn’t just his own release, but also Megatron’s still-pressurised spike. “Oh, you didn’t finish.” he flushed, Megatron’s chuckle only making him heat further with embarrassment.

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not polite, though.” Orion managed the smirk Megatronus had so loved, and was rewarded with a short rev of Megatron’s powerful engine. “Leaving your partner without an overload, that is.” he took Megatron’s spike in his hands to hold it steady, and bent to take the tip in his mouth. It only barely fit, the edge of the blunt tip a firm rim that flexed _just_ enough to pass his denta, but he managed to seal his lips around the hot, thick shaft and began pumping his hands, squeezing harder than he had before and laving his glossa over the broad, flat tip in his mouth.

He’d just flicked it over the transfluid slit when Megatron went tense under him with a strangled cry, and transfluid erupted in his mouth. Megatron’s overload came faster than he could swallow, and when he pulled off the hot, tangy fluid sprayed all over his face and helm, the last few spurts splattering his shoulders and windshield. He cycled his optics, and found Megatron staring at him, cheeks tinging blue as his field flickered with _shock mortification arousal_. The silence stretched on for a few long seconds before Orion broke, doubling over as he laughed. Megatron joined in after a beat, sitting up and drawing him into an embrace.

“You’ll stay?” he murmured, and Orion nodded. “Good.” he pulled back, and when Orion looked up at him Megatron bent to press a fierce kiss to his lips, arms tightening around him and field ensconcing him in _affection protection determination_. “I swear, Orion Pax, that from this moment on I will protect you, spark processor and frame. I swear it on every star which does not hang in this cursed sky.”

“That’s a lot of stars.” Orion murmured, all but melting into Megatron’s hold.

“I’ve a lot to lose, should I break my oath.” Megatron responded, one hand lifting to stroke behind Orion’s finials. “Rest, Orion. I will be here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who can't take a hint taped to a brick I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [[Link](http://pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


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